


The past and pending

by glim



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Modern Royalty, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 09:06:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,098
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9484283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glim/pseuds/glim
Summary: So, yes, the second worst thing was that he had to find a new valet.And the third worst would be learning to trust him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for an anon tumblr prompt: "I wish you would write a fic where modern!Royal!Arthur has a cold and Merlin looks after him."

Arthur closed the door behind him carefully, waited to see if anyone would call out or ring or text him immediately, and when nobody shouted and his phone remained silent, he let out a sigh of relief and slumped against the door. He even closed his eyes for a few moments to let himself take in the quiet warmth of his father's study. 

"Little brother," Morgana said, touching him on the shoulder. "It's not that bad, surely?"

"It is that bad. And worse." Arthur opened his eyes and took the cup of tea Morgana offered him. 

"Well. Let's hear about it, then. Did you just get home?"

Arthur nodded and let himself be pulled onto the sofa. Morgana had been reading--a few books and a notebook were spread across the cushions--but she gathered up her things and let Arthur sit closest to the fire. 

"I was on that panel at the Arts Council today, which was fine, but the press before and after..." Arthur frowned at his tea. "They're here, too, at the palace, though it's probably worse at Clarence House. And it's raining. I was out in the rain for at least ten minutes declining to comment."

 

"At least that explains why you look like a shivering, drowned rat." Morgana touched him on the shoulder again, then lightly brushed his damp hair off his forehead. "Everyone will forget in a few weeks. They will," she said when Arthur coughed skeptically. "James didn't even say anything interesting about you in the tabloid interview. You've been out since uni and anyone who's seen any of your outdoor appearances since age twelve knows you have hay fever." 

Arthur gave a huff and hugged his tea to his chest. "Just grass. And sometimes trees. And--it doesn't matter. It's not what he said but... that he ... I can't believe he did." 

"I know. It was wretched of him." Morgana touched Arthur's hair again, brushing it back from his forehead in the same way she'd done for as long as Arthur could remember. "Father will be home for dinner, and you can plan your itinerary for Paris and Vienna. That'll distract you." 

"I suppose so." 

"It will. I promise. And something new will happen in the news in a few days or so, maybe, and nobody will remember anything but how cruel your former valet was to give that interview." Morgana leaned back in her seat so that her shoulder touched Arthur's and she smiled at him when he glanced at her, uncertain. "Father said we'll get to see the philharmonic. Twice, maybe." 

Arthur groaned, and then laughed when Morgana nudged her elbow into his side. "Stop. I know you love them. I just find the concerts so interminably dull." 

"I know." Morgana nudged him again, then settled in next to Arthur to continue reading while he had a moan at her over his horrible former valet.

*

The worst thing was... 

Well, no, the _worst_ thing was having to think about James giving the interview, talking about his life with the Prince of Wales as if it were some sensationalist novel. 

His life wasn't even that interesting. So much of it was taken up by protocol and routine that what was left felt to Arthur like a combination of him watching Netflix, working out, playing on his mobile, or reading the art history journals he subscribed to. He hardly had time for an interesting personal life. 

Apparently, the tabloids thought differently. The first out, gay member of the royal family had to have an incredibly riveting lifestyle. 

Well, the joke was on them. Arthur's lifestyle was about as interesting as the next single gay man in London who worked too much and fell asleep before ten o'clock at night. 

So, yes, the _second_ worst thing was that he had to find a new valet. 

And the third worst would be learning to trust him. 

*

"All right. We're leaving in two days for ten days in--"

"Paris. And Vienna. Well, Paris first, then Vienna." 

Merlin sighed and gave the wardrobe a baleful look. For all his other shortcomings, Arthur's former valet had at least kept his wardrobe clean, neat, and organized. Looking back, it was probably one of his only good qualities. 

Not that Arthur had told Merlin exactly what had happened between the two of them. Merlin suspected it was some sort of state secret by now, and Merlin only knew what the rest of Britain knew, and what Gaius would tell him: that the prince's valet had given a tabloid interview after quitting suddenly on a Tuesday morning. 

Merlin sighed again. He didn't even want this job. He wanted a job as a personal assistant to somebody in government who appreciated fine organizational skills and who would give Merlin a holiday bonus and decent vacation time. 

"And what are you going to be doing in Paris, and then Vienna?" Merlin asked. He started sifting through neckties and turned back to Arthur when the prince didn't reply. "Your highness?" Merlin glanced at him, waited while Arthur scrubbed both hands over his face.

Arthur cleared his throat, then shrugged. "Well. Everything. The normal things." 

"Everything?" 

"Oh." Arthur coughed. "Perhaps not quite... Arts events, mostly. Museum visits and tours, theatre, opera. There's a rather large reception at the Louvre my first night in Paris."

"Right. Daytime and nighttime formal. Casual for the day, too, I suppose..." Merlin went back to choosing neckties and shirts and ignored Arthur for a few minutes. When Arthur coughed, he turned back and looked expectant. 

"I'll need white and black tie. And business wear. Look, do you have any idea how to actually do this? Because I don't have time to train a valet on my own." 

Merlin gave yet another sigh. "Of course I know how to do my job. It would help if you would actually let me know anything about your trip. I understand how you're feeling--"

"You do not." 

"I--"

"You--" Arthur cut Merlin off again, then cut himself off with a cough. "--can't talk to me that way," Arthur finished, without much conviction, and coughed again. 

Merlin had the grace to look contrite, however. Though he'd been officially working for Arthur for the past week, he's spent at least half of each day going through training and security protocol and learning to find his way around Clarence House. He knew working for the royal family was a serious position; Gaius wouldn't've recommended him if he didn't. 

And he was grateful, truly, though it wasn't the job he'd hoped for, he'd accepted it with good grace. Learning how not to speak out of turn was going to be a chore, however.

Arthur swallowed back another cough after he and Merlin spent a minute glaring at each other, then dropped down to sit on his bed. "Just make sure I have something to wear to each event." His voice dwindled into another cough at the end, and he shook his head when Merlin frowned at him. "Sorry." 

"No, it's fine. Are you..." Merlin returned the frown, and couldn't stop himself from feeling sympathetic instead of annoyed with Arthur. "You're alright?"

"I'm fine." 

*

He was not fine. 

Arthur knew this, and he knew that the cough was only the start of one of his interminable winter colds. He could tell by the way the strange, scratchy feeling lingered no matter how many cups of tea or water or throat sweets he had. 

Merlin didn't need to know this, though. He only needed to know what would help him get his job done. 

It didn't matter how open or friendly his smile was, or how he actually looked sincere when he asked Arthur how he was feeling. 

It didn't matter because Arthur wouldn't let it matter. 

He'd watched Merlin finish packing, and then gave Merlin a slightly more detailed list of their itinerary, and then dismissed him. 

Their relationship would be easier if it could remain professional and distant enough that Arthur wouldn't need to worry about Merlin being trustworthy enough.

He only wished Merlin didn't seem so... warm. So open and honest and warm. He'd seem Merlin smile now, and Arthur wanted that smile directed at him, the sudden, unexpected one that Merlin had given when he'd seen the itinerary. 

One of the stops must've been something he was interested in. 

Arthur had wanted to ask, but stopped himself just before he made an idiot of himself. 

He let out a sigh and stretched himself out on the sofa. Merlin was gone, and Arthur could feel himself starting to drag. It was the oncoming cold, he knew, but part of it was the desire to and fear of letting himself get close to Merlin. 

*

The only good thing about the flight from London to Paris was the length. 

Arthur told his staff that he was going to try and sleep on the plane, knowing the two-hour flight would be his only respite during that day, but he didn't manage to get any real sleep. 

And that he can only blame on his ridiculous head cold. He was congested and his throat hurt and he kept coughing, and even though Merlin offered him medicine twice, he turned it down knowing it would leave him feeling groggy the whole rest of the day. 

"At least have some more tea. It's so dry on the plane," Merlin said when he sat down next to Arthur. He had a cup of tea for himself, too. 

He also had on plain clothes, instead of the neat, slim suit he'd been wearing at Clarence House for the past few days. Dark blue trousers, a blue button up shirt, and a grey jumper, all of it smart and neat, but casual enough to wear for a day of travel. 

He looked handsome, was all Arthur could think, and he felt his stomach start to sink. 

"Thanks." He took the tea and directed his attention to that, not to the way Merlin's eyes looked so much more blue in this outfit than his work suit, nor the way he smiled and touched Arthur's arm when Arthur finally took the cup of tea. 

"You're welcome. Your highness," Merlin added, and smiled again. "Did you get some rest?

Arthur shook his head. "I think it'll be alright, though. I don't feel as worn out as I did yesterday." 

Merlin made a thoughtful sound and took a sip from his tea. They sat quietly for a few minutes, and Merlin took out his mobile to scroll through his schedule for the day. 

"Let me know if you need anything, alright? Your day looks busy..." 

Arthur nodded. He let himself glance at Merlin, and then smile, and felt the weight in his stomach ease a bit. 

If nothing else, he was starting to believe that Merlin's smile was genuine, and that it might not hurt so much to return it every now and then. 

*

Merlin arrived at the hotel in Paris before Arthur did. Quite a few hours earlier, actually, what with the press meeting Arthur had at the airport itself and the late lunch he had with the committee who set up that day's reception at the Louvre. 

Which left Merlin enough time to get the prince settled into his hotel suite. Whoever had booked Arthur's rooms in Paris -- and Merlin honestly had no idea if it was James or his secretary, Roderick, or even the king himself who had done so -- went out of their way to make sure that Arthur would have the most ridiculously excessive accommodation possible. 

Merlin was almost certain that even the Prince of Wales did not need the "two living rooms, one dining room, one fully-equipped kitchen and two bedrooms" of which the Appartement Parisien at the Prince de Galles hotel boasted. He hardly thought that Arthur even needed one living room or any sort of kitchen--he seemed to spend most of his time in hotel rooms sleeping or trying to sleep, and even Merlin only needed a kettle so he could give Arthur tea and hot medicine before bed. 

After all Arthur's luggage had been sent up to the suite and Merlin's had arranged a meeting with the hotel staff, he sat down in the smaller of the living rooms. Arthur's secretary would have taken care of the security detail in the hotel and surrounding area, but Merlin would have to do the work of getting to know the hotel staff who would be working most closely with the prince. He'd also have to do much more mundane tasks -- arrange breakfasts and other meals Arthur might want to take in the hotel, find out the easiest and most convenient times for the linens to be changed, locate the closest shops and restaurants that will deliver to the hotel and will do privately. 

Merlin made his list up quickly, saved it in his work mobile, and took another glance around the suite. He'd need to turn the heat up before Arthur got here, and decide ahead of time which of the bedrooms and living rooms Arthur would use. 

The decision proved easier than Merlin thought -- the smaller of both just looked more cozy and intimate, and even though he won't admit it, Arthur's ill enough to care more about being warm and comfortable than anything else. 

Between readying the bedroom and sitting room, Merlin met with the staff and found the arrangements go more smoothly than expected. It helps, of course, that his French is decent, and that's he's happy to attempt conversation in the staff's language before his own. He also discovered that the royal family has stayed here before, though this is the first time the prince has stayed in this suite on his own. 

That knowledge made it easier for Merlin to request extra blankets and a few things for the kitchen to be delivered to the suite. The hotel had kept track of the sort of tea Arthur preferred, when he likes his bed linens changed, and how to prepare food for him should he request it. 

Merlin's not certain if they've ever had to deal with Arthur when he's full of cold, but, well, that would be Merlin's responsibility now. 

*

Arthur dropped down onto the sofa as soon as he returned to his hotel suite after the flight and day out in Paris. He was pretty sure that he ought to be listening to whatever Merlin was wittering about, but most of his energy was taken up with trying to feel warm.

Or warmer. No, Arthur thought when he shivered, warm. The reception at the museum bad been comfortable enough for most of the evening, but it had started to feel chilly as the room emptied. The ride home was definitely not warm, not with how cold and damp it was outside. He was cold and tired, and wanted nothing more than to spend the next few days someplace warm and quiet.

Arthur shivered again, and the shivering seems to make him sniffle. Which had been embarrassing enough during the reception, and it didn't feel any less embarrassing here with Merlin hovering over him. Arthur groaned to himself, tugged out his handkerchief, and quickly swiped at his nose before looking up at Merlin. 

" -- bath and laid out your night clothes," Merlin said as he pressed a cup of tea into Arthur's hands. 

"What? Oh. Oh, a bath, yes..." Arthur gave the tea an uncertain look, then took a sip. 

"It has honey and lemon in it. Thought that would be nice before bed." Merlin smiled and gives Arthur one of his encouraging looks. 

Arthur was tempted to scowl at him, but refrained. He drank the tea, too, because Merlin was indeed correct and it did feel good to drink down the hot, sweet tea at the end of the day. And even though his cold was most definitely in his head and not his throat or chest, the warm tea felt good on his dry throat. 

"Do you want anything else?" Merlin asked. "I can put water by your bed, or a thermos of tea. I'm sure I can send for a hot water bottle, too." 

Arthur looked at the tea and at Merlin, and shook his head. "You keep giving me tea today." 

"Yes, well, you rather need it. And I'm not certain you'll make it for yourself."

"I make myself tea." Arthur turned aside to cough and drank more of the tea. "But you do it quite nicely, thank you." 

Merlin beamed at bit at Arthur, and Arthur was too exhausted not to reply in kind. 

"I drew you a bath, and you can get into bed whenever you're ready. Do you need me for anything else?" 

Arthur shook his head again, but he found what he really wanted to say was 'stay.' It's only been a week, maybe a bit more, but he wanted Merlin to stay, to sit next to him as he had done on the plane, to drink tea with him and to talk quietly. 

He wondered, for a second, if Merlin was lonely here in Paris with only Arthur to talk to. 

"You could..." Arthur cleared his throat quietly, and shook his head at the concerned look Merlin gave him. "Could have tea with me?" 

"Sure." Merlin smiled and touched Arthur lightly on the knee. "But I'll have to warm your bath water up before I leave, or you'll have a rather unpleasant experience in there." 

Arthur laughed, and then coughed, and finally resigned himself to be a complete mess of coughing and blowing his nose while he sat with Merlin for however long it took them to finish off their day together. 

*

As soon as he returned to his own room, Merlin stripped off his work clothes and stepped into the shower. If Arthur wanted to be woken up at 7:30am, then the latest Merlin could get up would be 6:00am. It was easier to take a long, hot shower now to help him to relax before bed and just then maybe a quick one in the morning before getting everything ready for Arthur's day. 

Merlin sighed and scrubbed shampoo through his hair. He could worry about tomorrow morning when it actually arrived. He's already put an order in for a light breakfast for the prince, and he can check the weather tonight and tomorrow morning before picking out Arthur's wardrobe for the day. Something smart, but with warm layers, as Paris had turned out to be damp and chilly this week and Arthur's cold has proven to be one that leaves him shiverish and miserable by the end of the day.

Merlin spent as much time as he can in shower, with the water as hot as he could stand, since he knew the hotel won't run out. It was well his while to take advantage of staying in a hotel room that probably cost as much per day as most of the flats he's lived in cost per month. 

A half hour and a shower and another cup of tea later, Merlin curled up on the sofa in his room, reading a book on his personal phone. So, of course, he received a text from Arthur on his work phone only a few minutes later.

> Roderick thinks I ought to do the morning walking tour, and then the late brunch instead of the early one? I should do the tour.

Merlin sighed and thought about refusing to answer and simply telling Arthur to go to sleep and to stop worrying about his events schedule.

After a few minutes, Arthur texts him again, asking for an earlier wake up time.

> Just do the brunch in the morning and tell your secretary you didn't get his message until late. GO TO SLEEP. Your cold will thank you for it.

Merlin replied, knowing Arthur will be extra-annoyed at him for it, and forced himself up from the sofa to hunt down shoes and something presentable to put on. Even a few days with Arthur had been enough to teach Merlin that the prince won't just rest if there's something he thinks he needs to get done. He settled for jeans and a jumper over his tee shirt, and combed his fingers through his damp hair before walking down to Arthur's suite of rooms.

He discovered Arthur waiting for him by the door, looking exhausted and worried, and Merlin pulled him into the kitchen. 

"You need to be in bed, Arthur," he said, realizing too late he used Arthur's name instead of a title.

Arthur didn't seem to notice, though, and he gave Merlin a dismissive wave with his tissues. "I wasn't even asleep." 

"Don't do the tour," Merlin said and added lemon and honey to the cup of hot water he'd prepared for Arthur, who'd claimed he was tired of tea. "Sleep in, and ask to do the later half of the brunch. Drink it," he added and pushed the mug closer to Arthur. "Then go back to bed." 

Arthur sighed and sniffled into the handful of kleenex. He said something congested and indistinct, then blew his nose and repeated it. "But I can't just cancel for the morning." 

"Of course you can. You're--" _The Prince_ , Merlin started to say, but changed his mind after seeing the tired, bleary expression on Arthur's face. "You're only one person, Arthur, and now you're one person with a really bad cold. Take the morning off, yeah?" he added, in a quieter voice, and leaned against the counter in the tiny kitchen. 

Arthur, who had shuffled out to meet Merlin in his robe and pajamas and with his feet bare, sniffled into his hot lemon-honey water. His blond hair was rumpled up, a little damp at the back from his bath, and he was tired enough to lean against the counter right next to Merlin. 

"I don't want anyone to think... What do I say?" Arthur murmured. "If I say I'm ill, people will talk about that. If I don't say anything, they'll assume it's... it's something to do with the interview." He stared down into his tea again. "I'm so tired of all that." 

"I'm sorry. I can't imagine," Merlin said. He reached over to touch Arthur on the shoulder, and then, when Arthur didn't resist, he rubbed just gently. "Look, I know you only hired me to pick out your ties, and to make sure you don't go out in public looking like you just rolled out of bed--" 

"Excuse me, I never look like that." 

"I know." Merlin grinned. Everyone knew that about Arthur of Wales. Even left to his own devices on holiday, everyone knew he was well-dressed, polite, and personable. 

The royal family might only be a symbol in Britain, and one of times past, at that, but people seemed to genuinely like Arthur. 

And if they knew this, if they knew how seriously he took the duties handed to him at birth, if they knew how much he craved privacy, if they knew he was just as full of tiny insecurities and loneliness and secret wantings as the rest of the country, Merlin could not help but think that they would like him even more. 

Because Merlin did now, he liked Arthur quite a bit, and he liked how even though Arthur had not yet found a way to tell Merlin any of those things about himself, in the space of a week and a half, he had allowed Merlin to discover them on his own. He'd let Merlin see him like this, tired and vulnerable, and he hadn't continued to push Merlin away. 

The fact that he wasn't feeling well had probably contributed to that, Merlin assumed, and he rubbed Arthur's shoulder again. "Come on, let's go sit and watch French telly for a while. Then you'll go to bed, and I'll let you sleep in until eight o'clock, or some decadent hour like that." 

Arthur pushed his shoulder into Merlin's touch, not quite a shove, and nodded. "Alright. I'll let you do that." 

*

It was past eight o'clock the next morning when Arthur woke up. He still felt rather under the weather, but the sleep had done him good. 

There were two texts for him on his mobile from Merlin, and Arthur read them both over at least a half-dozen times before texting back that he was ready for breakfast. 

Perhaps, he thought, the worst of all the past few weeks' events was over, and he could leave it behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from The Shins 'The Past and Pending'


End file.
